


My Brother's Keeper

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: JAG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-24
Updated: 2001-12-24
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:38:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	My Brother's Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

My Brother's Keeper by Charlotte D.

_My Brother's Keeper_

By Charlotte D. 

A _JAG_ fanfic 

Note: ZULU time is Greenwich Mean Time (GMT (England). For the US Eastern Time Zone, subtract 5 hours, Pacific, subtract 8 hours. So if it's 1300 ZULU, it is 0800 EST. For points **east** of GMT, add the appropriate hours.   
  
---  
  
  


**Chapter 1**

* * *

**Chechnya  
Present Day**

Ruslan Dudayev stood at the top of the steep incline, watching below as his Chechen soldiers loaded the supplies from the convoy they had just raided. He turned dark and still distrusting eyes to the young man who stood beside him. 

'It would appear your information was correct, after all,' he admitted. 

'I told you it would be,' the stoic man assured, his voice laden with a heavy Russian accent. 

'Perhaps you will be a valuable asset to me,' Ruslan admitted. 'Yet I still do not understand why you would sell out your own people.' 

'They are not my people anymore,' he spat. 'My own government betrayed me more times than even I wish to admit. I give them only the loyalty they have shown to me, which is no loyalty at all.' 

The Chechen leader considered that for a silent moment. He had heard the stories about this one, most of which he had not believed at first, but now he was starting to. Nodding to the guards near them, he ordered, 'Untie him. And take him back to our lodge and let him clean up some. I would be honored if you would join me for dinner.' 

'It would be my pleasure,' he assured, feeling the ropes that bound his wrists behind his back being slit. His bonds fell free and he gently massaged the wounded and tingling skin as blood flow returned freely to his hands and fingers. He raised a young hand to his face then, rubbing the beard that had grown freely the last several months. A chance to clean up would be nice. 

Ruslan motioned for him to follow and, with a friendly smile, Sergei Zhukov turned and fell into step beside his new friend, his one time enemy, General Dudayev of the Chechen Army. 

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

**1300 Zulu**   
JAG Headquarters   
Falls Church, Virginia   
Three weeks later. . . 

Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb had a bad feeling about this day. The feeling worsened the moment he stepped into Admiral Chegwidden's office and found himself surrounded by familiar and very concerned faces. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie's dark eyes reflected what almost looked like sick worry. The Admiral's dark scowl told him that something was definitely wrong. And the presence of Clayton Webb confirmed that. 

He turned his steady stare to Webb, but still requested of his commanding officer, 'Is something wrong, Sir?' 

'Yes, it is, Rabb,' Chegwidden sighed heavily. 'Sit down.' 

He did as ordered, his gut tightening with dread as each second ticked off the clock. There were certainly many reasons for Webb to be here, but only one stuck out in his mind at the moment. 

'Sergei?' he forced himself to ask, fearing the answer. 

'He's alive,' Webb answered the unspoken question. 'For the time being, at least.' 

'What does that mean?' Rabb demanded. 

'Tell him,' the Admiral ordered when Webb visibly hesitated. 

'The Russians have put a price out on his head,' Webb sighed. 

'What?!' Harm exploded in disbelief as he shot from his chair. 

'It is what they do to traitors, Rabb,' he stated bluntly. 'Especially ones that are a clear and direct threat to them.' 

'How can my brother be a traitor?!' he shouted so loudly the windows nearly shook. 'He has been in a Chechen prison since--' 

'He hasn't been a POW for some time,' Webb butted in. 'I didn't say anything before because. . . Well, hell, Rabb, I didn't know if the information the CIA was getting was legitimate or not. But some of my connections in Russia confirmed it a few hours ago. Sergei has been cooperating with the Chechens for months. At first, he was just telling them little things that he knew. But that has started to change. He's turned on his own country, Harm. Your brother is feeding the enemy valuable information. Convoy routes. Alternate plans for transporting weapons. Military tactics and weaknesses. He's become a threat and now the Russians intend to eliminate him.' 

'No,' Rabb shook his head, unwilling or perhaps unable to believe what he was hearing. 'My father. . . Our father did the exact same thing once. He fed the KGB false information--' 

'This information isn't false,' Webb insisted. 'He is doing real and legitimate damage to the Russian Army. I'm sorry. I just thought you should hear it from me first.' 

'Admiral,' Harm turned his attention to his commanding officer then, his head swimming with the news. 'I have some leave time built up. Sir, I have to take it now. I have to go to Russia and find out what is happening with Sergei.' 

'You're not your brother's keeper,' Chegwidden spoke after careful thought. 'I can't let you risk your own life over a choice that he has made.' 

Harm opened his mouth to argue, but Webb spoke up first, 'Actually, I was hoping Rabb would go, Admiral. He has made friends within the Army that might trust him and give him information. Not just for his brother's sake, but for the States, as well. We need to know what is happening there, too. My people went from getting some conflicting reports to basically nothing at all. We fear something big is about to happen but we can't find out what. But Rabb. . . He has more than just a passing interest here. He might get some answers. Sergei is his brother, after all. I would like to request that you let Commander Rabb go on an official visit.' 

'Under what pretense?' the Admiral grunted. 

'We have people working with the Russians officials investigating possible terrorist cells in their country,' Webb reminded. 'Not to mention the possibility of terrorists leaders seeking refuge among the Chechens now.' 

'Sergei wouldn't have anything to do with that,' Rabb declared. 

'At the moment, no,' Webb agreed. 'He's just selling his country's secrets. But we still need to know what the Chechens' next move will be in regards to terrorist activities. The rest of your traveling entourage is looking into that. I'm merely sending you because we're friends, and I know you want to know what your brother is doing. I can have your travel arrangements made within the hour if the Admiral will clear it.' 

'I can arrange that,' he grudgingly nodded, but his eyes still reflected worry. 

'Sir, I think I should go along as well,' Colonel MacKenzie put in, shooting Rabb a dark look when he started to object. 'Harm will need someone who can speak the language and assist him in his work. Besides, we've always worked well together in Russia, haven't we, Commander?' 

A soft smile touched his lips and he nodded, very thankful for her support at that moment. 

'You two go home and pack,' the Admiral ordered. 'I will have you both on the first available flight.' 

Both lawyers saluted their commanding officer before excusing themselves and stepping from the office. Once outside, Harm's shoulders sagged with the blow that had just been dealt him. 

'Hey,' Mac tried to reassure him, 'we're going to help your brother.' 

'How?' he questioned. 'He's. . . He has been feeding information to the Chechens, Mac. He's a traitor to Russia now. They would just as soon kill him as arrest him! He's somewhere in the Chechen mountains and I don't know where. And even if I did, how I can help him? If I somehow managed to get him out of the country, I couldn't bring him back here. He's a wanted criminal now! He'd be extradited back to Russia for trial and--' 

'Calm down,' she gently but firmly insisted. 'We need to take this one step at a time.' 

Rabb sighed heavily, leaning back against the wall. 'I just. . .I just keep wondering what they did to him,' he forced himself to admit. 'I know I didn't misjudge him, Mac. He's no traitor or coward. The Chechens. . . .they must have tortured him or hurt him badly or threatened someone he loved to make him--' 

'Shhhhh,' she cut off his words. 'Stop thinking that, Harm. We don't know for sure and you will drive yourself crazy with those thoughts. Right now, let's just concentrate on getting some answers. Come on, Flyboy, let's go find your brother.' 

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

**1400 Zulu**   
Moscow, Russia   
The Following Day 

'Welcome back to Russia, Commander Rabb,' a familiar voice declared from behind him. 'I wish it were under better circumstances.' 

Harm and Mac turned at the same time, side-stepping some of the harried passengers in the airport. They both watched as a tall, distinguished Russian officer moved to join them. 

'Captain Volkonov,' Rabb greeted, shaking the man's hand. 'You remember Colonel MacKenzie.' 

'Yes, of course,' the officer nodded to her. 

'Captain,' Mac acknowledged. 'You didn't have to come to the airport to meet us. We're here on--' 

'United States Government business,' the fair-haired man interrupted, winking at Rabb. 'Perhaps _you_ are, Colonel, but I know the Commander is here for other reasons. By the way, Colonel, we have a transport prepared to take you and your associates to a hotel and get you settled in. The Russian Army is willing and prepared to help you in your search for terrorist activities within our country.' 

'Thank you,' she stated. 'We do appreciate that.' 

Volkonov nodded, motioning towards the group that stood at a distance. 'Perhaps you should take the rest of your entourage and get settled into your hotel rooms. Commander Rabb will be along shortly.' 

'I don't think so,' Mac disagreed. 

Rabb took her arm and lead her out of ear shot, suggesting, 'Perhaps you should go ahead. Volkonov may talk more openly with just me here. Besides, it might look suspicious if you don't go ahead and I don't want to do anything to hurt Webb's investigation.' 

She gave in with a reluctant nod, stating, 'Okay. But I will see you at the hotel room.' 

She moved away from him then and fell into step with the FBI and CIA agents who had made their journey to Russia. They flagged down several taxis outside the airport and she found herself alone in the last one. She called out the name of her hotel in Russian, stilling in surprise when the driver turned and declared: 

'Back to see me, already, Beautiful Colonel.' 

'Alexei,' she breathed in surprise. 'How. . .?' 

'How did I know you would be here?' he asked with a knowing smile. 'I know many things, Beautiful Colonel.' 

'And what might some of them be, Alexei?' she curiously asked. 

'I hear rumors. . . . Let us take the long route to your hotel, eh?' he suggested with a chuckle, turning back in his seat and pulling his cab onto the busy street. 

* * *

**Chapter 4**

* * *

'My brother is not a traitor,' Harm declared as Captain Volkonov rejoined him on the park bench, handing him a soda he had purchased from a nearby vendor. He had left the airport with the Russian officer and had found himself restlessly prowling through the grounds of a nearby park. 

When the Captain did not join him on the bench, he stood to his full height, staring down at the other man as he repeated, 'Sergei is not a traitor.' 

'A year ago, I might have agreed with you,' the Captain sighed. He began to walk through the open area and Harm fell into step beside him. 'But even the most loyal of men can lose themselves after a time, Rabb. The Russian Army hasn't always been the kindest to your brother.' 

Harm nodded, reluctantly seeing the truth in those words. 'I guess they haven't.' 

Volkonov released a harsh laugh at that. 'To say the least. They held his father as a POW. Drunk Russian soldiers tired to rape his mother and did murder his father. His own General framed him for a crime he didn't commit and he was nearly executed for it. He would have been released in that prisoner swap except that--' 

'Whoa, whoa,' Harm butted in, stopping in his tracks and grabbing the other man's arm and forcing him to turn and face him. 'What prisoner swap?' 

'You didn't know,' he realized. 'It was only a rumor, but I imagine it still held some truth to it. Not long after your brother was captured, a prisoner swap was arranged. He was supposed to be one of the soldiers released, but that was changed at the last minute.' 

'Why?' Rabb demanded. 'A friend of mine in the States was supposed to ensure he was among the first prisoners released.' 

Volkonov rolled his eyes at that, assuring, 'Your friends may have power within their own government, but in Russia, money still talks. A rather wealthy man had a nephew in the Army, also among the POWs the Chechens held. Enough money given to the right people ensured that the nephew's name made the list. He took your brother's place in that prisoner swap.' 

'Son of a bitch,' Harm softly swore. Sergei had almost been released, he realized. His brother had almost been out of that hell. 

'No one really argued your brother's case or pushed for his release,' the Captain finished. 'Why should they? He was just the son of a peasant woman and her farming family. I suppose that was the last straw for him. He realized his own Army had no loyalty to him, so he started cooperating with the Chechens immediately thereafter.' 

'Things must have gotten bad for him in that prison for him to do that,' Rabb whispered mostly to himself. 

The Russian officer rested a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, admitting, 'I will not lie to you and say that each side treats the other well. I imagine the Chechens inflicted many hardships on your brother.' 

'He's just a kid in a bad situation,' Rabb sighed. 'Captain, nothing on that farm in Siberia prepared him for this.' 

Volkonov's eyes narrowed at that and he admitted, 'Sergei did not spend that much time on his family's farm, Commander. As a child, he did, but once he was old enough to attend school, he was sent to Novosibirsk to live with his great-aunt. He attended schools there.' 

'I didn't know that,' Rabb admitted. 'I just assumed. . . . Hell, I don't know what I assumed about him.' 

'Your brother was a very smart young man and highly educated. Why do you think he was given such a high commission in the Army? His schooling played a large hand in that.' 

'How did Pitchta afford it?' he asked, speaking of his half-sibling's mother. 

'I don't know,' the other lawyer admitted. 

'Maybe we should ask her,' Harm suggested. 'I'm sure she is worried sick about Sergei. It might help her to talk to me. I know it would help me to see her again.' 

'Pitchta is dead,' he surprised Rabb with that admission. 'She passed away nearly six months before you met Sergei.' 

'Another thing he didn't mention,' Harm muttered. 

'He never told you his mother was dead?' he asked. 'Why would he not tell you?' 

'I don't know,' the Commander sighed as he walked past Volkonov. 'But he's going to have a lot of explaining to do when I see him again.' 

The Russian Captain watched him stroll away before muttering, 'If you see him again, Commander. _If._ ' 

* * *

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Harmon Rabb opened his hotel room on the third knock, stepping aside to let Sarah MacKenzie enter. 'I was beginning to get worried about you,' he admitted. 'The others arrived hours ago. Where have you been?' 

'My cab driver took the scenic tour,' she confessed, walking to the stereo on his dresser and turning it up louder than necessary. 

Harm nodded to her, understanding what she was doing. She feared his room could be bugged. She walked back to his side and admitted on a low voice, 'Alexei was waiting for me at the airport.' 

'What did he have to say?' he replied on a voice barely above a whisper, but the urgency was still in his eyes. 

'Well, you know, Alexei. He knows most of what is happening.' 

'What does he know about Sergei?' he questioned, desperate for any answers. 

'Nothing,' Mac stated. 'Which, according to him, is very odd. He thinks that if a Russian officer was such a threat to national security that the country would want him found ASAP, then he should have heard some rumblings amongst his friends beforehand. Now, like Webb, he has heard the talk amongst the Army of a traitor and that it is Sergei Zhukov, but he's gotten no confirmation from his FSB connections or his former KGB associates. They've all had nothing to say about it.' 

'That doesn't make any sense,' he sighed. 'If anyone should have information on this, it would be Alexei.' 

'He did have some other information that he said you should know. He wouldn't tell me what it meant, but he said that a few months before Sergei was shot down, his great-aunt was moved from her home in Novosibirsk to an up-scale nursing home here in Moscow.' 

'Captain Volkonov mentioned this great-aunt of his.' 

'Nadia Zhukov,' she offered. 

'Let's go pay Aunt Nadia a visit,' he declared. 

* * *

**Chapter 6**

* * *

'Talk about an expensive joint,' Harm whistled as he was led down the long, decorated halls of the nursing home. To him, though, it looked more like a ritzy retirement estate. 

He absently listened to Mac and the nurse speaking in Russian. Mac had come through for him, as always, managing to talk their way into the immaculate facility and convincing the nursing staff that she was the niece of Nadia Zhukov and wanted to see her aunt before leaving the city. 

The nurse stopped at the end of the hall, lightly knocking before opening to reveal the spacious room. It was larger than his and Mac's hotel rooms put together. A wide bed sat in the center of the room. Bookshelves lined the walls as well as a dresser and matching armoire. A television and radio was neatly tucked away in the entertainment center. 

Harm found himself wondering how his brother could afford this. A place like this probably cost more in one month than Sergei made in an entire year. 

An elderly woman sat in a wheelchair near one of the bookshelves, flipping through what looked like a scrapbook. The nurse quietly excused herself and Mac moved towards the woman, her feet whispering on the plush carpet as she moved to Nadia. 

She knelt beside the wheelchair and the elderly lady started as if realizing for the first time that she was not alone. Mac apologized in Russian for scaring her and he forced himself to wait patiently for her to translate what was being said. 

'She wants to know what we are doing here,' she explained, turning dark eyes to Rabb. 

He knelt as well, bringing himself to eye level with the elderly woman as he stated, 'Tell her that we want to talk about her great-nephew.' 

Mac related and the elderly woman's face lit up as she pointed to another photo album. Harm handed it to her and she began flipping pages as she talked. 

'She says she never goes anywhere without her pictures,' Mac translated, taking the photo the woman held out to her. Harm glanced down at it, seeing how faded and old it was. The paper itself was older than Sergei. He could make out what looked like a young woman standing before a small house, at her feet played two young boys. 

'This can't be my brother. Tell her we want to talk about her family members, Pitchta, and her son, Sergei,' Harm instructed. 

Mac did as requested and translated back, 'She says. . .she says that she was not related to them. But she knows Sergei. She fostered him because her nephew requested it. And to help protect him.' 

'Protect him from who?' 

'She says she cannot say,' Mac related. 

'Tell her I am Sergei's brother and that I am very worried about him and I need information.' 

Mac spoke the words and he watched in concern as the elderly woman became visibly upset. 'She says that you lie. That promises were made years ago. That Pitchta vowed to never tell anyone about her son with the American. That. . . .' 

'That what?' he pressed when the Colonel's words trailed off. 

'She says that Sergei was to be executed if you ever learned of his existence,' she spoke the words. 'Pitchta promised that she would never tell Rabb's family about his other child and, if she did, her son was to be killed by the KGB.' 

Harm sank lower onto the floor as he heard those words. He wanted to ask more questions of the elderly woman, but she became more and more upset as she rattled. Mac spoke to her gently, trying to calm her down. Two nurses entered then, concerned by the noise and quickly ushered them out. 

'I don't believe this,' Harm stated when they were alone in the lobby of the nursing home. 'I. . .I wondered why Pitchta never told me about my brother. . .I knew there had to be some reason. I thought maybe she was trying to protect my father's memory for me, but she was really trying to protect my brother's life.' 

'We don't know anything for sure,' Mac replied, turning an ear to the nurse on the phone who was making a rushed call to someone. She had missed most of it, but she had caught Nadia's name. 'Harm, it is possible she is delusional. She might not even know what she's talking about.' 

'I have a sick feeling she is telling me the truth,' he sighed. 'I'm going to go back to the hotel room and check my messages. Maybe Alexei or Captain Volkonov has some information for me.' 

'I am going to stay here,' MacKenzie declared. 'Maybe talk my way back in to see her.' 

'Okay. You just be careful,' he insisted. 

'You, too,' she stated, watching him leave before she turned back to the nurse who had just made the call involving Sergei's great-aunt. She asked to see Nadia again, but the nurse related that the elderly woman had been sedated. 

'Then I will sit with her while she sleeps,' she insisted in Russian. 

The nurse reluctantly gave in with a nod and she made her way back down the hall and into the private room. The elderly woman was under the covers of the bed, sleeping soundly. Mac quietly moved to her bookshelves and reached for the picture albums. She sat down in the chair nearest the window and began slowly tuning the pages. There were several photos of the woman she assumed to be Nadia and a young boy. Occasionally, the boy was joined in photos by another child who looked oddly familiar to her. But the pictures were faded and worn and she had trouble making the faces out. 

Newer and much more clear photos were at the end of the scrapbook and she smiled as she recognized Harm's brother. Sergei looked barely twelve or thirteen in the pictures. She pulled the flimsy plastic covering back and reached to take the photo out of the book. She peeled the photo from the page, surprised to find another one was tucked behind. 

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the once hidden photo, her eyes clinging to it in disbelief. She hastily flipped it over and read the inscription on the back, 'Sergei, sixteen years old'. It wasn't Harm's brother who held her attention, however. It was the man who stood with his arm around Sergei. 

She knew him. His face she would have known anywhere. . . 

* * *

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Harmon Rabb hurriedly paid the cab fare before unfolding his long legs from the cramped car. He stepped onto the sidewalk in front of his hotel and was about to enter when a car pulled up by the curb, honking the horn. 

Harm turned sharply and moved to the car, recognizing the driver. 'Captain Volkonov, what are you doing here?' 

'Looking for you,' the Russian officer stated the obvious. 'Get in.' 

He did as requested, sliding into the car as it pulled away from the curb. 'Where are we going?' 

'To see your brother.' 

'Where is he?' he demanded. 

'Still in Chechnya,' Volkonov stated. 'We received a tip that he has not only been feeding the rebels information, but now he is fighting beside them, helping them raid convoys. The Russian Army has set up a little trap to catch them. If you wish, I can make the proper arrangements to have us included on the set-up.' 

'Yes. Definitely,' Rabb assured, holding onto the dashboard as the officer made a sharp turn. 

'You know it is dangerous, Commander. You could get killed.' 

'I can take care of myself,' Rabb insisted. 'But what about Sergei? What happens to him when he is arrested?' 

'Assuming he doesn't decide to go down fighting,' the Captain reminded, 'he will be taken into custody. We will consider his case before the courts.' 

Rabb bit his tongue to keep from replying to that. He had seen enough of military justice in this country to last him a lifetime. 'I need to tell Colonel MacKenzie my plans.' 

'No time,' Volkonov disagreed, glancing at his watch. 'We will have to rush just to make the military flight to the Army Base in Chechnya. We will try to get a message through to her from there.' 

Harm glanced at the other lawyer, a hint of a smile touching his face as he stated, 'Thank you. I know you had to pull some strings to arrange this. I appreciate it.' 

Volkonov offered a slight shrug in reply, insisting, 'I knew you would wish to be there. Maybe you can talk some sense into Sergeant Zhukov and convince him to surrender before he gets killed.' 

'God, I hope so,' he sighed. 'But I don't know.' 

'You will. After all, you are obviously your brother's keeper,' he stated off-hand. 

'Funny,' Harm chuckled at that. 'You say I am and another friend says I am not his keeper.' 

The Captain dared a glance at him as he drove them from the city. After a long moment of silence, he admitted, 'He will listen to you if he is the brother you think he is. If not. . .' 

'What?' he pressed when the words trailed off. 

'If he is not who you think he is, then he might kill you instead. Or you might be forced to kill him. . .' 

* * *

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Ruslan Dudayev knelt beside his companion in the thick brushes that lined the roads. It would be dark soon, he knew. Night would have fallen by the time the Russians noticed their weapons convoy missing, giving them ample time to disappear back into the mountains. 

'I hope your information is correct,' Sergei Zhukov spoke first. 

Ruslan's dark eyes bore into him as he assured, 'I planned this perfectly. Nothing will go wrong. You just do your part.' 

'Don't I always?' Sergei countered, shifting the rifle in his hands and taking careful aim at the road below. He used his teeth to tug off one of the thick gloves he used to keep his hands warm. The cold mountain air was sometimes brutal to the guerilla soldiers. 

He wrapped a finger around the trigger of his weapon and took aim at the road below. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of a heavy truck moving in their direction. The vehicle soon came into view and he timed his shot perfectly, blowing out the front tire. The vehicle swerved dangerously on the dirt road before the driver gained control and slowed to a stop. 

He used the scope of his weapon to zoom in on the faces of the men who exited the truck. One was particularly tall and he zeroed his attention in on him. 

Sergei gasped, shock racing through him. It couldn't possible be. . . But even from this distance, he knew it was. 

'Harm,' he whispered in surprise and then his soldiers began firing on the men below. 

* * *

**Chapter 9**

* * *

'We have a flat tire,' Captain Volkonov declared as he moved to Harm's side. 

'I don't like this,' Rabb admitted, his suspicious eyes traveling over their surroundings. 'Last time you and I stood outside a weapon's convoy together, it had been set up to be raided by Chechen soldiers.' 

'We are the ones setting them up this time,' the Russian officer reminded. 'Besides, after the information we fed them, they will be waiting for us miles up the road. And so will a regiment of Russia's best soldiers to capture them.' 

'I still think--' Harm's comment was cut off when a bullet whizzed past his head. He grabbed Volkonov by the arm and pushed him towards the truck where they took refuge behind it. 'They're not suppose to ambush us for miles, huh?' 

'I don't understand,' he shook his head in confusion, watching as Rabb took a pistol from his waistband and cocked it. 'Our information said--' 

'Your information is wrong,' Harm shouted over the sounds of gunfire. 'Either that or someone sold you out to the Chechens. Someone warned them about this.' 

The Russian officer started to comment but Harm turned his back on him, taking aim as several of the guerillas raced down the road bank to overtake them. They had only a few soldiers traveling with them for protection. The others were waiting miles up the road to capture the rebels. 

Rabb was about to pull the trigger when he saw someone rushing up beside him from the corner of his eye. He started to turn, but the butt of a rifle connected with his side. It wasn't a severe hit, but it was enough to knock him off balance. He hit the ground face first, his pistol landing inches from his hand. He started to reach for it, but the soldier standing over him pushed the barrel of a rifle into his back and whispered, 'Don't. Please.' 

It was the 'please' that stopped him first and then other realities slowly sank in. A Chechen guerilla who spoke English with a Russian accent. . .? 

He still lay with his face in the dirt but he turned his head slowly, just enough to see glimpses of his captor as he asked, 'Sergei?' 

'Welcome to Chechnya, big brother,' the familiar voice greeted without enthusiasm. 'What the hell are you doing here?' 

Harm moved his hand away from the pistol and slowly rolled over to see his sibling's face. 'What do you think I am doing here, Sergei?' 

His brother looked away then, his face unreadable. Harm watched as several of the guerilla soldiers began gathering around them. His brother turned to one and they began speaking in a foreign tongue. 

'How much did we recover?' Sergei asked. 

'No weapons aboard,' Ruslan stated, smiling maliciously at the prisoner. 

'What do you mean no weapons?' Sergei angrily demanded. 

'It was a trap meant to lure us into capture,' Ruslan admitted. 'Besides, we have something far more valuable than weapons. We now have a Russian officer and an American prisoner.' 

'The United States will not sit still for this,' Volkonov declared from somewhere behind Harm. 'If you hurt their Commander, they will seek vengeance.' 

'He is right,' Sergei agreed. 'We should send the American back.' 

'Why?' Ruslan challenged. 'Because he is your brother?' 

Sergei stiffened visibly at that, giving no answer in response. Ruslan merely smiled at his lack of reaction, stating, 'I know many things, my Russian friend.' 

The Chechen guerilla turned to Rabb, surprising the other man as he spoke in English, 'I have been thinking of a way to test your brother's loyalty. Now I have it.' Ruslan reached for pistol in the waistband of his pants, cocking it and handing it to Sergei. 'Kill him and prove yourself.' 

Harm locked gazes with his sibling, hoping to see any sign of the brother he thought he knew. Sergei turned cold blue eyes from his brother and let them settle on his comrade. 'Tomorrow,' he suggested. 'We will save my American brother's death as a gift for our friend who is visiting us.' 

Ruslan considered that, finally nodding. 'Tie him then,' he ordered as he walked past them and called out to another soldier. 'Emin, give the Captain a souvenir from us and then let him crawl back to his soldiers with a message to give to his superiors.' 

Harm forced himself not to fight back as he was pulled from the ground and pushed against the side of the truck. His wrists were jerked behind his back and tied securely. From behind him, he heard a single gunshot and Volkonov cry out in pain. 

'Captain?' he called, worry evident in his voice. 

'They shot me in the leg,' the other lawyer explained through gritted teeth. 'They're taking you, Commander, but leaving me as a message. They--' 

'Enough!' Sergei interrupted, jerking his brother around to face him. 

Harm stared into the cold face and unyielding eyes that he no longer recognized, asking in remorse, 'What happened to you? Why are you doing this?' 

'You should have stayed in America, big brother,' was the only reply he received. Zhukov took his arm and pushed him towards the dense woods. 'Let's go.' 

* * *

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Harm struggled against the ropes that held his wrists prisoner, quietly cursing his brother's ability to tie a really good knot. He had been brought to the rebel camp hours ago and deposited in one of the tents. His mind still had trouble dealing with the events of the day. 

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting to find when it came to his brother, but he certainly hadn't thought it would be this. He had convinced himself Sergei had somehow been forced to betray his country and that if his brother only had a way out. . . 

His thoughts trailed off as the flap to the tent was slung open and Sergei and Ruslan entered. The Chechen soldier eyed him with obvious distrust before turning to Zhukov and asking, 'So this is the brother you told me about? The other son that your father loved best. This is the one your father intended to leave your pregnant mother for and return to. The brother who lived the high life in America while you and your family were starving in Siberia. The one who didn't give a damn you were in a Chechen prison.' 

'Sergei,' Harm demanded his half-sibling's attention, 'that's not true and you know it.' 

Ruslan chuckled without humor, admitting, 'Always wanting to be the protector. I heard that about you, Commander Rabb. You think you are your brother's keeper.' 

Harm's eyes narrowed suspiciously at that and he inquired, 'Where did you hear that from?' 

Ruslan ignored his question, replying with, 'Zhukov has told me all about his life in Russia. His father that was imprisoned and later killed by drunk Russian soldiers. How his own General framed him for a crime he didn't commit and would have let him die for it. His own country refused the loyalty he offered, so I accept it. I freed him from a Chechen prison and gave him a place in my army. I am more important to him now than you are. And you will learn that tomorrow when Sergei takes your life as a gift to our special guest.' 

'I should radio our comrades to ensure that all is ready for tomorrow,' Sergei volunteered. 

'You do that,' Ruslan nodded. 'I have to make some arrangements of my own.' 

Harm watched as the Chechen leader left them alone. His brother moved to the radio in the corner of the tent then, quietly making two radio calls. Sergei stood then and retrieved a blanket from the floor. He moved to his brother, kneeling and wrapping the warm material around Rabb's shoulders. 

'The night air gets cold here,' Zhukov muttered as he took the canteen from his waist and held it to his sibling's lips. 

Harm drank greedily from it as he took in his brother's appearance. Sergei was thinner than before. His hair was longer and several days' worth of beard stubble lined his hollow cheeks. The dark smudges under his eyes told of sleepless nights and endless hardships. The brutally cold mountain air had chapped and dried his lips and well as the skin of his hands. 

'You look like hell,' Harm declared. 

'I look better than you will come tomorrow,' Sergei signed deeply, running a frustrated hand through his blonde hair. 'Dammit, Harm, why didn't you stay away?' 

'I wanted to check on my little brother,' Rabb quietly admitted, seeing the varying emotions flash through his sibling's face. 

'Do you want something to eat?' Sergei changed the subject. 

'No, I'd rather talk about what you are doing and why.' 

'You should eat instead. You will need your strength,' the younger man insisted. 

'For what? My execution tomorrow? Tell me, who is so important that the Chechens are rolling out the red carpet for?' 

Sergei hesitated visibly, but then admitted, 'Aslan Maskhadov.' 

Harm felt his breath catch at the name of the former president of Chechnya who now led these men in their war against Russian. 'The Chechen Rebel leader is coming here?' 

'Tomorrow,' his brother assured. 'And now you have put both of our lives in danger.' 

'What the hell is really going on, little brother?' he demanded. 

Zhukov stood then, announcing, 'I have to go.' 

'Sergei!' Harm shouted to the retreating back. His brother kept walking and quietly slipped from the tent. He heard the muttering outside as Sergei gave instructions to what he assumed was the guard posted to watch him. His attention drifted to the radio in the corner. If he could only get to it. . .and knew who to contact with their position. What coordinates to use. How to speak Russian. . . 

He sighed aloud in defeat, but then stilled when he saw the red light that glowed from the radio. His brother had left the system on, he realized, and it was still transmitting. 

* * *

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Colonel Sarah MacKenzie shifted in the uncomfortable chair in the far corner of Nadia Zhukov's room. The elderly woman had been sleeping soundly for hours and she had curled up in the quiet, dark corner with the woman's photo albums and waited. She knew who would eventually make an appearance. 

And she was not to be disappointed. Several hours later the door was pushed open and a lone man strolled through, carrying a small potted plant. He moved to the bedside and set the pot down on the dresser, whispering, 'How are you, Aunt Nadia?' 

'She's doing fine, Mark,' Mac spoke from the dark corner, watching as the Russian spy whirled around, his hand flying to the gun under his long coat. She reached for the lamp behind her chair and flipped it on. 

'Sarah,' Mark Falcon stated, his perfectly schooled features revealing nothing. 'I heard you and Rabb where in Moscow. Although I am surprised to see you here. The nurses said that Nadia had had unexpected visitors. I can assume that is you? Should I be touched that you would visit my dear old aunt?' 

'Your aunt?' she inquired. 'I was under the impression that she was Sergei's relation.' 

'And who would have told you that?' he suspiciously inquired. 

'A little birdie, I guess,' she shrugged, purposely flipping through the photo album on her lap. 'I have to say, Mark, you were adorable as a child. Your aunt has so many pictures here. Herself. You. . . .Sergei. Sergei _and_ you.' 

'Take Rabb and go back to the States, Sarah,' he advised. 'For everyone's sake.' 

Her reply was cut off by the shrill ring of a cell phone. 'I believe that is me,' he announced, reaching for the phone in his jacket. 

'It's me, too,' Mac realized as she fished out her own phone and answered it. She forced herself to concentrate on the news on the other end even as she heard Falcon demand: 

'Are you sure? Alright, then, I'm on my way.' 

Mac hung up as well, shooting from the chair and demanding, 'Was that about Harm?' 

'Rabb is the least of my concerns, Sarah,' he barked. 'He's tucked away at his hotel room and I suggest you keep him there.' 

'No, he's not,' she argued. 'I just heard that he was part of a weapon's convoy--' 

'How do you know about that?' he demanded. 'Come to think of it, how did you know about this place and Nadia. I want the truth, too.' 

'I heard from Alexei,' she admitted. 'But Captain Volkonov told Harm.' 

Falcon's eyes narrowed at that, but he made no comment other than, 'Damn Rabb! Why did he have to get involved? He's going to mess this up.' 

'What do you know?' she demanded. 

'We've had a report of a high profile hostage taken by the Chechens from a weapon's convoy raid earlier today,' he admitted. 

'Harm?' Mac asked, her fears realized when he nodded. 

'How did he get on that convoy, Sarah?' 

'Captain Volkonov arranged it. Now you tell me what you know.' 

'Some lower ranking Colonel in the Army decided to set up a trap to smoke out the Chechen rebels. Only the rebels were tipped off ahead of time, confirming my suspicion that we have a traitor in the ranks. I have to go,' he announced. 'I have to be somewhere.' 

'What are you going to do about Harm?' she demanded. 'He's a prisoner of the Chechens now!' 

'I will do what I can,' was all Falcon could promise. 'Until then, he's safe. His brother will see to that.' 

'But Sergei--' she began, only to break off that thought in mid-sentence. 'Oh my God, he's the one who sent the message out about Harm, isn't he? He's no traitor, Falcon. He's working for you.' 

'Good-bye, Sarah,' he stated simply, turning to leave. 

She beat him to the door, defiantly declaring, 'You're not going anywhere without me.' 

* * *

**Chapter 12**

* * *

'Wake up,' a rough voice ordered as a booted foot jarred into the ribs of Harmon Rabb. 

The Commander shook his head to clear it as he sat up, several blankets falling from his body as he did so. Someone had added additional cover to him during the night, he realized. And he had his suspicion that it was his brother. Who else would care if he got frostbite? 

The Chechen soldier grabbed him by the arms and pulled him to his feet, pushing him towards the exit of the tent. Harm squinted his eyes against the sudden glare of the bright sunlight outside. When his sight adjusted to the change, he took in his surroundings. The camp was in a heavy wooded area and the guards were all armed, each watching him with suspicion. The men nervously glanced around as if expecting visitors at any moment. 

And Harm now knew who after his talk with his brother last night. Aslan Maskhadov, the leader of the Chechen Rebels. 

Rabb started in surprise when he felt someone behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see his brother. The ropes around his wrist were tight and his fingers had long since gone numb and he was surprised to feel the bonds suddenly fall loose and blood flow return normally to his hands. 

'I thought you were saving my execution as a gift,' he stated lowly. 

'Just stay close to me,' Sergei insisted, resheathing the knife he had just used to cut the ropes. 'As you Americans say, the cavalry is on its way.' 

'Sergei, something's not right here,' he urgently insisted. 'I know that--' 

Rabb broke his words off when Ruslan moved towards them. 'Are you prepared to do this?' he asked Sergei. 

Zhukov nodded, insisting, 'Just as soon as General Maskhadov gets here. When will he arrive?' 

'Why do you ask?' Ruslan taunted, raising a pistol and aiming it at both of them. 'So your Russian friends can assassinate him?' 

'I don't understand,' Sergei declared, moving to stand in front of his brother. 'Why do you accuse me of such? We are friends and--' 

'Sergei,' Harm interrupted. 'You can drop the ploy. You've been sold out. Aslan Maskhadov isn't coming here, is he, Dudayev?' 

An admiring smile touched Ruslan's lips as he nodded. 'You are a smart man, Commander. Smarter than me, I confess, because I fell for your brother's act for a time. He gave us much valuable information.' 

'Of course he did,' Rabb acknowledged. 'How else was he to gain your trust if he didn't tell you something you could use?' 

'Harm,' Sergei hissed. 

'I'm not telling him anything he hasn't already figured out by now,' Rabb assured. 'Face it, little brother, you were sold out. Someone who knew your cover rolled over on you. And I know who.' 

'That's what you think,' Ruslan sneered. 

'You gave it away, actually,' Harm assured. 'Something you said about me being my brother's keeper. Only two people referred to me as that way. One is in the United States. An Admiral I would trust with my life. The other one led me here.' 

The sound of hands clapping filled the air then and the three men turned to see Captain Volkonov step into the clearing. 'Very good, Commander,' he praised. 'Just too bad it took you this long to figure it out.' 

'I don't know what lies he has told you, but you cannot believe them,' Sergei insisted to Ruslan as he pointed at the Captain. 'I have not seen that man in over a year. He is a Russian officer who once helped to bring down General Krylov.' 

'First, eliminate your competition,' Rabb declared as his eyes bore into Volkonov. 'That's why he helped bring down Krylov. It made him look good to his own superiors--less suspicious--and it forced the Chechens to rely only on him. Dragging me into the mix was a sure way of exposing Sergei.' 

'Yes, it was,' Volkonov agreed. 'I liked you, Harm. I really did. And I had every intent of getting your brother out of the Chechen prison camp. I called on a friend for his release. . .but then the Russian government thwarted it. It was like someone wanted him there. I started to get suspicious then, especially after I heard he was cooperating fully. I was torn. If he was helping the Chechens, then he was a valuable asset. If he was a spy, then he was a serious threat. You were the best way to determine his loyalty.' 

'You arranged for his 'treason' to be leaked to Webb, who in turn told me,' Rabb stated. 'You knew I would come here.' 

'The ultimate test of loyalty,' Sergei spat. 

'If you were on the Chechen's side, you would have killed your brother yesterday when Ruslan requested it,' Volkonov nodded. 'Instead, you protected him. I knew you couldn't be trusted then. However, you could be used. You will tell me your contacts within the Russian government. You will tell me who arranged this little spy game of yours. And you will tell me anything else that might be useful. Or you will watch me kill your brother, Sergeant Zhukov.' 

Sergei turned visibly troubled eyes to his sibling. Harm shook his head at his brother, stating, 'Don't. We're both dead anyway. And so is Volkonov, he just doesn't realize it yet.' 

The Captain chuckled, asking, 'You think so?' 

'I put the pieces together and so will others. I suspected you when the Chechens 'shot' you and left you behind at the convoy. They would never have passed up the opportunity to have a Russian officer as a prisoner. I never believed for a second that our disappearance would be reported, which is why I sent an S.O.S. out on the radio last night.' 

Volkonov's composure seemed to slip for a moment as he declared, 'You did not.' 

'My brother was kind enough to leave me in the tent alone with the radio and Ruslan let him do so,' Rabb shrugged with a smile. 'You really should hire better help.' 

'You fool!' Volkonov stormed at Ruslan. 

'I imagine someone picked up the signal and honed in on it. They should be on their way--' 

'We have to move the camp!' Volkonov declared. 

'Please, tell me you didn't mess with the radio,' Sergei decreed as two guards stood near them as the rest of the camp began hastily preparing to move. 

'Nah. It was a good bluff though. It bought us some time.' 

'It's not a bluff,' Sergei admitted, scanning the woods. 'I sent out a message last night and--' 

His comments were cut short as gunfire erupted. The brothers ducked as bullets whizzed by their heads and Russian agents began shouting orders to surrender. Harm lunged for the nearest Chechen soldier, knocking him down and wresting him for the pistol he held. 

Sergei followed his lead, withdrawing the knife from his side and attacking a rebel who neared him. He fought with the rebel soldier as the other guerillas began retreating from the camp as the Russian agents poured in. Zhukov turned the knife on the Chechen rebel, ending their struggle with a single twist of the blade. He looked for his brother then, watching as Harm punched his enemy and knocked the man unconscious. From the corner of his eye, he saw sunlight glitter off the barrel of a pistol and turned to see Ruslan taking aim at his sibling. 

'Harm!' he shouted the warning, throwing himself at his brother as Ruslan pulled the trigger. 

Harm watched in horror as his brother stepped into the line of fire. Sergei's blue eyes widened in pain as the bullet entered his body, the impact jerking him around. With one arm Harm caught him as he started to fall while raising this other hand that held the pistol he had taken from the Chechen soldier. He emptied the contents of the weapon into Ruslan, watching as the man fell. 

He gently lowered his brother to the ground then, feeling his sibling's blood as it dampened the sleeve of his jacket. He ripped the material of his shirt and used it to put pressure on the wound, drawing a groan from his wounded brother. 

'You hang on,' he ordered, slapping his relation's cheeks to keep him awake. 'You hear me. You hold on.' 

Sergei's eyes fluttered open and he whispered, 'Sorry. . .Harm. . .never wanted. . .you involved. . .' 

'How touching,' a sarcastic voice drawled and Harm looked up to see Volkonov standing over him, a pistol in hand. 

'You better run,' Harm warned in fury. 

'Me?' the Russian captain innocently questioned. 'I'm one of their own. A captured officer they have freed. They won't suspect me. Unfortunately, the Chechens killed you, Commander. You and your brother.' 

'Drop it!' a familiar voice ordered and Harm stilled in disbelief. 

'I'd do as she says, Captain,' Mark Falcon advised as he stepped into view, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie beside him. 'She's fairly protective of the Commander there.' 

'There's your traitor, Falcon,' Harm accused, nodding towards Volkonov. 

'Take him,' Falcon ordered to his men and they quickly took the weapon from Volkonov's hand and cuffed him. 

'Mac,' Harm called out. 'I need help. Sergei's been shot.' 

She rushed to their sides, kneeling on the ground and moving Rabb's hand just long enough to see the severity of the wound. Turning dark and concerned eyes to Falcon, she asked, 'Mark?' 

'Help is on the way,' he insured, speaking into the radio he held in his hand. He moved to Sergei's side then, kneeling and resting a hand on the young man's forehead. 'How you feeling, kid?' 

'Major Sokol,' Sergei rasped. 

Harm turned angry eyes to the former KGB agent as he declared, 'You've got a lot of explaining to do.' 

* * *

**Chapter 13**

* * *

Mark Falcon spoke quietly to the hospital nurse, letting his eyes drift occasionally to the end of the hall where Harmon Rabb paced like a caged animal. He thanked the young nurse before pouring two cups of coffee and walking towards Rabb and MacKenzie, who sat quietly in the corner. Sarah took the cup he offered with a nod of thanks and he moved onto Rabb, holding out the steaming beverage. 

Harm shook his head, declining the offer as he asked, 'What did the nurse say?' 

'Your brother is still in surgery.' 

'He's been in there for hours,' Rabb sighed. 

'Maybe that's a good sign,' Mac tried to reassure. 'It means he is still hanging on. He's a fighter.' 

'I can answer some of your questions now, if you'd like,' Falcon offered, motioning towards the empty chairs beside Mac. 

Harm nodded, claiming one of the chairs and waiting until Falcon took the one beside him to demand, 'He was working for you, wasn't he?' 

'Yes. I needed a spy within the ranks of the Chechen Army. Someone who could get close enough to their leader, Maskhadov, to either assassinate him or give us his exact position so we could get to him.' 

'Why Sergei?' he demanded. 'Why did you choose him?' 

'He volunteered,' Falcon admitted. 'Rabb. . .the KGB knew about him almost from the start. They went looking for your father after he escaped. By the time they learned what had happened, Sergei was already born. His presence alone made my associates nervous. He was living, breathing, DNA proof that American POW's had been held in Russia, even years after the end of the war. You can imagine what news like that could have done a decade or two ago. The Cold War could have easily turned into World War III over such a revelation. So the KGB did the only thing they could. . .they ordered his death.' 

'Sons of bitches,' Rabb swore, barely aware of the calming hand on his shoulder. 

'Believe it or not, I felt the same way,' Falcon stated. 'I just couldn't bring myself to order the death of a child, so I suggested an alternative instead. A deal was made between Sergei's mother and myself. She was to never contact you or any member of your father's family. No one was to ever learn that Harmon Rabb, Sr. had another child. If they did, then Sergei was to be killed. In return, I offered Sergei's mother anything she wanted. We would have sent her anywhere to live. Provided her all luxuries in life. She never asked for anything for herself, though, just for Sergei. She asked that he have a good education.' 

'So you arranged for your aunt Nadia to foster him,' Mac put in. 

'Yes, Sarah, I did,' he acknowledged. 'I had him take Nadia's last name of Zhukov as his own and she told people he was her nephew. No one questioned it. He received a proper education and the added bonus was that I got to keep a closer eye on him. That kept my superiors happy. When you met his mother, Pitchta, several years ago, she knew she was dieing. That's why she told you the truth about your father's death.' 

'But she left out Sergei because of the deal she had made,' Harm added. 'She was still afraid of what might happen to him if she told me.' 

Falcon nodded, 'Yes, she was. After her death, Sergei wanted to join the Army. I helped him get a high commission there and saw to it that he was trained as a helicopter pilot, as was his wish. He volunteered to be our double agent, Rabb. He felt he would have the best chance at accomplishing the mission because of his past. He thought that if he let the Chechens know about his father and how the KGB had threatened his life as a child that they might be willing to buy his decision to switch sides. We even allowed General Krylov to frame him because we knew that would make his story more believable. We would have never actually allowed the execution to be carried out, though. We needed him to get shot down and captured. I arranged for the failed prisoner swap, and then your brother did the rest. I gave him information to use against us so that the Chechens would believe him. His mission was to locate Maskhadov and either kill him or arrange for my people to capture him.' 

'That's why he wouldn't leave and come back to the States with me,' Harm sighed. 'He knew that day that he was going to be 'show down and captured,' didn't he?' 

'He knew it was in our plans, but he didn't know when or where we would arrange for it to happen,' Falcon stated. He was quiet for a moment before adding, 'I think there is something else you need to know. When Sergei volunteered for this mission, he added his terms to it. If he succeeded, then in return for his service, he was to be allowed to move to America. He wanted to meet you and tell you about your father. He wanted you to know about him and he wanted to know you.' 

'But Harm met his brother before Sergei's arranged capture,' Mac disagreed. 

'I set that up,' Falcon admitted. 'My superiors agreed to his demands to be allowed to meet you after his mission because no one thought he would cone out of those hills alive. Hell, I like the kid. I figured it wouldn't hurt to let him meet you beforehand. I arranged for your little trip to Russia and for you and Sergei to encounter one another. He was never aware that I was behind it, though. He still thinks it was just his good luck.' 

Harm started to reply to that, but his attention was drawn to the end of the hall where the doctors appeared and motioned to him. He took in their grim faces and stood with dread, walking to meet their news. 

* * *

**Chapter 14**

* * *

'It's about time you woke up,' Harm cheerfully declared four days later as he stood over his brother's bedside. The last ninety-six hours had been literal hell. The doctors had first told him that his brother would probably not live through the night. He had refused to believe that and sat vigil by his bed, willing him to live. Needing him to. And Sergei had not disappointed him. 

'Thirsty,' his sibling muttered and he quickly poured him a glass of cold water and placed the straw to his dry lips. 

'I would be, too, if I had slept for four straight days,' Rabb teased. 'How you feeling?' 

'About as bad as you look,' Sergei admitted, forcing his gaze to focus on his brother. 'When was the last time you slept?' 

'I grabbed a few winks, oh, last week, I think,' Harm joked. 'On the plane ride over from the States. You are not good for my sleeping habits, little brother.' 

'You should have stayed in America,' Sergei grumbled. 'You always get me and yourself in trouble when you come to Russia.' 

'If I had stayed in America, you would be dead right now!' Harm declared. 

'No, I would not because Volkonov would have had nothing to use against me,' he disagreed. 

'Yeah, and you would still be hiding out in the Chechen mountains unaware that he was betraying you!' 

'Lighten up, Commander,' Mark Falcon declared as he and Sarah MacKenzie entered the hospital room. 'He's recovering from surgery, you know. How are you feeling, Sergei?' 

'Better, Major,' he lied. 

'Good,' Falcon nodded. 'I've got excellent news for the both of you. Volkonov has been singing like a bird. We're learning a good bit of useful information from him now.' 

'But we still haven't captured Maskhadov,' Sergei sighed, his voice weakened. 'I failed.' 

'No, you didn't,' Harm insisted. 'You smoked out a traitor in Volkonov who in turn is probably rolling over on others like him as we speak.' 

'But the Chechen leader still lives,' Sergei sighed. 'And the war still goes on.' 

'My people will get him eventually,' Falcon promised. 'Besides, it's not your problem anymore.' 

'What do you mean?' Mac asked. 

'Well, I now find myself in the position of deciding what to do with Sergei here,' Falcon stated. 'I can't very well send him back to the Russian Army. The Chechens probably have a price on his head and would surely kill him on sight now. Not to mention that his own soldiers think he betrayed them. Now, I could go to every single one of them and tell them what a good guy he really is, but that would just take up too much time and effort. No, instead, I think I will just send him out of the country. Rabb, you don't know of any place that might put him up for awhile, do you?' 

Harm looked at his brother's hopeful face and smiled, assuring, 'There is room at the Rabb Motel, I think. The food is decent and the rent is affordable.' 

'Sounds like an offer you can't refuse,' Mac smiled. 

'What do you say, Sergeant?' Falcon inquired. 

'I don't know,' the younger man hedged. 'What would I do in America?' 

'Keeping Harm out of trouble is a full time job,' Mac laughed. 'I could use help.' 

Sergei nodded as he smiled at his sibling, stating, 'Then I guess I will have to go. It looks like I am my brother's keeper now.' 

Harm laughed as he rested a hand on Sergei's shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. 'Maybe we can be each other's keeper.' 

**The End**

* * *

© 2001   
Please send comments to the author! 

12/24/2001 

Background by Daire 

* * *


End file.
